Tag Archives: Devil Dash

WOW! Has it really been almost a month since my last blog post? Yes, yes it has. I am sitting here writing this, shaking my head sadly, because I did want to write something sooner, but alas, LIFE has been very busy! I am going to do my best to sum up everything in the crowded, little, allotted blog box while striving to make this piece entertaining, informative, interesting and maybe even a bit funny.

So what has the Humphrey Clan been up to the last (almost) 30 odd days or so? Let’s see:

One- Idan and I had a “staycation” at my mom’s house while she and my step-dad were gallivanting off to Norway (yes, very jealous). My job was to make sure her animals were fed, her mail picked up, and to consume the entirety of the contents of the fully stocked fridge and pantry that she left as a “thank you” for taking care of her home while she was gone. The challenge was that for most of the 12 days I was there, my husband could not be. So, I had a small taste of what single parents do EVERY DAY (minus the added full time job part) and I must say it was HARD! I was thoroughly exhausted by the end of the day, and just wanted to drown my sorrows with Oreos and bad reality television. Which I did, every night. I have the utmost respect for all the parents pulling double duty.

Two- A small, little thing that Colorado experienced called THE FLOOD hit!!! (note sarcasm in voice) This flood was insane and did affect me personally. Yes, it was a shame that my Devil Dash was canceled (until further notice, or until Lyons is not underwater anymore) and I was unable to show off my minimal mad jogging skills, but what was much worse was the devastation that was endured by so many people. It was so awful to witness homes being swept away or submerged under water, livestock stranded, and people desperate to get back to their homes only to realize that they do not have flood insurance (who would think you would need it in Colorado?). I did have family members affected by this as well, and it has made my heart ache for them. The only positive result from this is that my son was able to be immersed with grandparent love for a week while they were staying with us. He has been thoroughly sad, since they left, and often looks at me with mommy boredom face.

Three- I joined a gym! I have belonged to this gym before and loved it. I actually, really do like going to the gym. I haven’t been able to the last few years due to commuting to my job, money, time, and a little thing called 4 ½ months of bed rest. However, we are now at a place where we can manage for me to go a few times a week. What is nice, is that Idan gets to spend some time with other kids and play with other toys, and I get one hour of “me time,” which I think is essential for every mother.

Things have not changed all that much since the last time I was at the gym. The main difference now, is that I have a kid that I tote with me, and my reflection in the mirror while I am jogging is a lot scarier and older! I say that to myself in the nicest way possible. I was never the chippy who wore makeup and jewelry to the gym. Who really does that anyway? And if so, they are not there to work out. I managed to squeeze into my pre-pregnancy work out attire, (although still sporting the five months pregnancy looking bump) pull my hair up, and go. I am glad that my large donut shaped headphones are not as dorky looking as they were two years ago. The cute girl who runs next to me wears white ones to go with her sparkly gold headband and matching gold shoes. I try not to stare too much at how fast her pace is, but when I do get a glimpse I can tell that it is at least double the pace of mine. Gotta love the gym.

I do want to point out that even though I have my slightly tight, pre-pregger pants, left over baby spit up in my hair, zero makeup, a somewhat dorky looking jog, I am thoroughly enjoying myself and feel great about getting out of the house for some me time. I will write more soon on some of the things that I have learned so far while going to the gym.

But I will leave you with this: I just realized that because my chocolate donut headphones are SO good at keeping noise out, they are not good at keeping me from making noise. Because I cannot hear myself, I didn’t realize that after the first half mile of running I was continuing to make this sound that was kind of like a guttural exhaling grunt, combined with a slight squeaky wheeze, and that the people next to me were not glancing over to look at how fast I was running, but more as to question, why they had to be stuck next to “THAT” person who was the gym weirdo. I was grouping myself with the sweaty short-short wearing mullet man, or the token gym lurker who only stares at the equipment instead of using it. I only realized that I was making these musical body sounds when I had to use other head phones and discovered that I am very vocal when I exercise.

*sigh* Can I not just be a normal person?

I have since corrected this about myself, and now have upgraded my gym status to a more normal social peer group.

Thank you all for reading this post! I hope that my fingers will get exercised more in the coming weeks with more writing!

I also want to add that my thoughts and prayers go to all who were affected by the flood. May there be peace and resolution that will come swiftly.

Current highlights:

Idan is crawling like a mad man and wanting to walk!!!!

I am now adjusting to the pace of being home, and am loving 98% of my day. Mostly the two hours before the hubs comes home from school is the hardest.

Still learning to cook and doing pretty good, I am a better baker.

I am experiencing a huge weakness for drive through coffee. It’s getting worse. I look forward to a coffee while running errands with the boy. Plus the 2:00 caffeine upper is much needed these last few weeks.

My relationship with running started when I was around five or six years old. Back then I LOVED running. I would run around for hours with my sister or neighborhood friends. I loved the feeling of extra air in my lungs and coming into the house with pink cheeks. Running was easy at that time, and it never felt like a chore.

Then, in the midst of my awkward puberty stage, running decided to humiliate me in the sixth grade. Gone were the days where running was carefree and exhilarating. Now, running was something that hooked into your ego and self-esteem.

PE in middle school is one of the most embarrassing and social numbing experiences out there. Not only is your body going in every which way, you don’t want to highlight that by not having any physical prowess. This is where the humiliation part kicked in. Once a month we had a “fitness day” where we were tested on everything from pull ups, to sit ups, squats, jumps and RUNNING.

I was a gymnast for many years, and was always fairly athletic, so I was not too intimidated by the first fitness test of the year. I was new to the school, didn’t have any friends yet, and thought I could fit into the sports crowd by wowing them with my physical athletic capabilities.

I was horribly mistaken, and it was running that let me down.

It was a colder day, slightly dreary and we were all cattled around the center of the football field. We were instructed that we all had to run the mile, and that we would be timed. Everyone had to participate in the endeavor and no one would be allowed to leave until EVERYONE WAS DONE. And the teacher meant that.

Running the mile around this track meant running around it six times. We all lined up on the track, and he blew the whistle. I was off. The first half of the first lap wasn’t too bad. I had found a decent stride, the cramps in my legs hadn’t kicked in yet. Heck, I was even ahead of the three questionable weird kids! After the first lap I thought, “I got this.”

Then lap two happened. I am not sure if it was actual soreness or lack of confidence, but I just couldn’t run anymore. My lungs started to burn, snot was building up in my nose. I had a side rib cramp, and one of my calf muscles seized up. One by one, kids started running their third and fourth laps around me while I was pathetically limping along on my second one. Not wanting to feel like an even bigger nerd than I already felt, I mustered up enough energy to try and run and only ended up with bursts of hobbled walking. It just wasn’t going to happen. I couldn’t run anymore. I felt like I was going to cry, and tried to hold back tears, but the overwhelming ball in my throat wouldn’t let me and I began to sob while I walked around the track.

Slowly the herd of sixth grade bodies thinned out, and they were all sitting in the middle of the football field waiting for me to finish; I was the last one to complete the mile. I could see kids snickering and jeering as I tried to run my final lap. Even the teacher was waiting impatiently and would look at his watch while holding the timer. “Come on Ms. Lange”” Hurry it up, these kids need to get to lunch.”

Not only was I the last kid to run the mile, I was keeping everyone back from lunch (The one thing every middle schooler waits for all day). Running not only humiliated me by failing to make me look cool, I was now responsible for cutting everyone’s lunch short. After this event, I sat alone in the cafeteria for at least a month.

Finally, I crossed the finish line and everyone got up to go to the locker rooms. I purposefully stayed behind, because I didn’t want to see their faces, and didn’t want them to see mine. Running ruined my life.

From that day forward I have since had a love/hate relationship with running. I was able to recoup emotionally on some level, and when the fitness test happened again, I wasn’t necessarily the last person, but have never been the first. Running became this thing that I was suddenly afraid of. Every time the teacher announced “Fitness Day,” I would hope that I would spontaneously combust so I wouldn’t have to participate. I still feel that way. When my husband suggested a few years ago that we try training for a 5K I found every reason not to, and almost started weeping at the thought of anyone seeing me run. We did the program, I gave it what I could. We finished the program, but never did our 5K.

But now, I have my own son, and he needs to know his mom is not afraid anymore. I never want Idan to experience or feel the way I felt when that happened to me. I know we cannot prevent these moments, but I hope I can show him he can recover. I refuse to be that girl who sobs on the last lap and wants to die inside from humiliation.

I have started training for a 5K again, and this time I am going to do it. I want to experience the extra air in my lungs and feel elated again. I want to see what my body is capable of, and not be afraid of getting outside my comfort zone. I want to tell that 6th grade girl that it is ok to be last, because you know what? You finished.

And that is what I intend to do. Finish.

I don’t need to be first, and if I am last that is okay. At least I can say I did it, and I am not afraid anymore. So, to complete this goal, my husband and I are participating in the “Devil Dash” 5k, mud-run and obstacle course in September (We Humphreys like to go big or go home!). For the first time in a long time, I am looking forward to something that would normally cause me stress and potential humiliation. I am a little intimidated by the obstacle part, but I have my husband to help me push my overdeveloped bottom over the wood and rope walls.

I promise to blog all about it.

Thanks for reading one of my many memories to grace the social media world. Maybe this will inspire some people to counsel with their inner 6th grader and let them know that they survived and really, everything is okay!